


Perspectives

by A Whimsical Technicality (Shockwaifu), Shockwaifu



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Old Work, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21792685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shockwaifu/pseuds/A%20Whimsical%20Technicality, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shockwaifu/pseuds/Shockwaifu
Summary: Three tiny character studies from the eyes of those who don't always get the biggest roles in the show.(written in 2013, posted to ffn 2017)





	1. Thundercracker

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older work that I found buried and forgotten on my Notepad. I wrote it right after I had finished the G1 cartoon, some time in early 2013 and have not touched it since, so it may be a little rough. There are 3 short character studies from the perspective of some of my favorite minor characters. Interestingly these characters are all important in a major multi-chapter story I am in the process of writing, but my characterization has changed for them after all this time (especially Thundercracker). I thought I should put it up here despite all of this, just in case anyone is interested.
> 
> Enjoy!

I know I'm going in the wrong direction, I've known it since I started. I cannot feign ignorance, because I'm not stupid. I cannot pretend that I feel no sense of wrong in shooting a defenseless bystander, watching as the unfortunate creature writhes in the agony of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I feel the twisting of agony in my own spark, screaming as a part of me dies with the limp figure before me. I hate it. I hate it all. But why am I doing this? Why am I rolling around in filthy swill of my own repulsive actions in support of a cause that I never believed in when I could simply lift myself into the sky above that I hold in such reverence?

I don't know, truthfully. The only thing I can think is that I am a fool. A damned fool. I am so lost that I know exactly where I'm going. I have already been pulled too far in the current that flows into the Pit that no amount of fancy flying can change my course. And worst of all, I could have avoided this, I wanted to avoid this, but I didn't.

I really am a damned fool.


	2. Skyfire

I only vaguely recall the crash itself; it was simply a thoughtless event not unlike a step. Albeit this was a devastating, tragic step, but a step nonetheless. Waking up is a memory that holds much more clarity, much more depth.

My initial sight was the familiar face of my colleague, contorted with worry, radiating relief. He explained that I had been out for ages, and I could tell that my plight had deeply concerned him. I felt intensely sorry for causing him so much grief. Then I noticed that he was not alone; behind him was a tall, harsh, imposing mech with plating as gray as a corpse. My partner then informed me that the universe was not the same one that I had known before my fall. Cybertron had been consumed with war. Tools of discovery had been reformatted into tools of destruction and explores were forced to become warriors. He insisted that I must join him in taking back what was rightfully ours, and I wanted to trust him, as I did so long ago. But times change, and so do all those subject to it. Optics, once bright with intense perspective, now appeared to be lit only by hunger.

Right in front of me, he turned into a lie trying to bury itself beneath the crust of this planet. I saw, but I convinced myself not to believe. And in that moment, I became his lie as well.

But I, first and foremost, am a scientist, and am too devoted by my very nature to the discovery of the truth to live in falsehood, no matter how much that falsehood held in my spark. And for that, my friend injured me more than I thought possible. Even though I was lost for what could have been an eternity, he had managed to trap himself much further. He was chained down to the layers of hate, ambition, dreams, and deception that had grown above his being, layers that most of him appeared to believe comprised his real identity, that there could never be an alternative to his loathsome existence. So now I weep because he is so much more than he has come to represent; more than the distorted mockery of the Starscream I once knew. And my greatest hope is that he will be able to shed his exoskeleton of deceit and realize that he has a spark that is capable of tenderness, compassion, and trust. And that he would realize that he is my friend


	3. Cosmos

So here I am, orbiting. That's what I do, just sorta spin round and round up here right outside of the atmosphere, waiting, watching, I guess. It's pretty lonely, but, hey, I'm helping, and if I save at least one other Autobot, it will all be worth it. I have occasionally been able to combat the boredom that seems to accompany being a living satellite; playing good-natured pranks on the human inhabitants can be fun, but sometimes that becomes dull. Now, I've found a nice little trick that provides almost limitless entertainment. By fiddling with my transmitter frequency, I intercepted a fascinating signal that contained something known as "television" more specially, "cartoons". These were bright and fun, and despite the fact that I did not get about half the jokes, very humorous. Since then, I have been able to keep one optic on the situation down below, while keeping myself entertained and informed through human media with the other. So, don't worry about me. I get lonely, sure, but this is my job, and I like it up here.


End file.
